


promise i won't feel a thing

by arashiyama (harukatenoh)



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Making Out, Messy Feelings, yknow how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 20:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/arashiyama
Summary: Inukai has a tight leash on his emotions. He appears as what he wants to be, appears to feel only what he wants to feel, and keeps this control with practice and finesse. Kageura takes this all apart, easily.





	promise i won't feel a thing

**Author's Note:**

> i love inukage babey! ringing in the fuckin new year!
> 
> work title from crying on the bathroom floor by muna

Kageura has him pressed up against the wall. This is how it usually is.

A few times, Sumiharu tried to reverse their positions, have him be the one crowding Kageura up into a corner, but Kageura would always switch them eventually. He thinks it might give Kageura the impression he has the upper hand. They both know that that can’t be further from the truth, but Sumiharu is willing to let him have this, at least.

He’s so aggressive. Kageura keeps pushing forward, one hand fisted in Sumiharu’s hair and one at his waist. He’s not using them to not pull Sumiharu closer, but pushing him back instead, just so that he can step further in. Take up more of Sumiharu’s space. It’s stupidly hot. 

Sumiharu can’t stop grinning, even as Kageura pulls at his bottom lip with those sharp teeth; he’s drawn blood a few times, which is a constantly entertaining experience for Sumiharu. He doesn’t mind in the least, but Kageura always seems somewhat sorry about it, and watching him fumble through apologies is fun.

Kageura pulls back with a frustrated sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan. Sumiharu doesn’t appreciate the pause, but at least he gets to observe Kageura like this. His face is red and his lips are shiny, and he somehow looks even madder and more worked up than he usually does around Sumiharu.

“What the hell are you grinning about?” Kageura snarls. He’s so beautiful like this. Sumiharu is so fucking fond of him.

He cocks his head, just because he knows it pisses Kageura off. “I’m enjoying myself,” he says, slow and low and teasing. It makes Kageura narrow his eyes at him. “Aren’t you enjoying this?”

Kageura has nothing to say to that. It’s obvious to the both of them that he is, and without any rebuke, Kageura has to fall back on other things. With another half-growl, he kisses Sumiharu again, urgent and angry and  _ everything _ , and Sumiharu soon loses the smile on his face.

Kageura is so  _ pushy _ . Even with his kissing, he’s demanding and aggressive and almost overwhelming, but not for Sumiharu. Sumiharu feels like his knees might buckle under the pressure, but they don’t. He stands strong, because he’s not about to give way to Kageura, now or ever, and he knows that’s one of the things Kageura likes about him.

It’s a short list. But that doesn’t matter. They don’t need to like each other to do this. All Sumiharu has to do is rile Kageura up a bit, until he’s got excess emotion and nothing to do with it; nothing except Sumiharu. 

Their friends were surprised by the development at first, but it’s become common news now. It’s a good setup. Kageura has been picking less fights, they’ve been getting along—by a loose definition of the word—more, and everybody wins.

Kageura begins to work at Sumiharu’s neck, attacking it with the same vicious efficiency he applies in battle, and all Sumiharu can do is fist his hands at the back of Kageura’s hair and try to breathe. He feels the scrape of teeth against his skin and he shudders; Kageura notices it, from the way he laughs, breathy and mocking and intense.

He rises to be face-to-face with Sumiharu, a candid smirk on his face. Sumiharu knows he looks like a mess, but he just lets Kageura stare anyway, casually defiant of the way Kageura’s gaze seems to burn into him.

“Yeah,” Kageura mumbles, tracing Sumiharu’s jawline. “I’m enjoying this,”

He makes it sound like a challenge, so Sumiharu leans in again, and lets himself go for once.

* * *

“Yeah, it’s a good setup,” Sumiharu muses as he stares at himself in the mirror. He’s dispatched to some bathroom in Border to clean himself up; he’s never sure what exactly Kageura does after each rendezvous, but he’s always somewhat presentable afterwards. For Sumiharu, the bathroom visits have almost become a ritual.

It’s calming. It lets him think. It lets him mull over how stupid this entire thing is. 

It also lets him maintain his appearance, just freshening up a little. Neither of them are inconspicuous, of course; if disappearing for a while together wasn’t a big enough flag, Kageura is a  _ brat _ when it comes to leaving marks. And Sumiharu… Sumiharu just likes to see his handiwork on Kageura, he supposes.

See, it’s a good setup, except for one little problem. Big problem. A big problem that leaves Sumiharu staring into the sink and berating himself for  _ ever _ letting this happen, for letting this go on.

The problem is that between meeting and immediately pissing each other off and eventually solving their respective problems with each other like eighteen-year-old teenage boys: fighting, and then making out, Sumiharu has maybe-possibly-potentially caught feelings.

The problem is that when he says between meeting and so forth, he actually means very soon after they became somewhat-friends. Kageura is handsome and intense and passionate and despite everything, considerably put-together. He knows who he is, what he wants, what he thinks. He doesn’t shy away from anything, always on the aggressive, always sincere.

He isn’t anything like Sumiharu. That is something that Sumiharu really likes.  _ This _ list is long, and Sumiharu keeps it close to his heart and goes through it regularly, every day reminded of exactly why he puts himself through this. Because he  _ really _ likes Kageura, and it is awful and amazing, exactly in that way Kageura tends to be.

Really, the only thing about him that Sumiharu doesn’t like, the only problem with him at  _ all _ in Sumiharu’s eyes, is that he doesn’t like Sumiharu back.

They’re friends now, even if either of them sometimes deny it, so Kageura likes him like that. And Kageura is plenty willing, honestly rather  _ enthusiastic _ , to push Sumiharu against any nearby surface and kiss him silly, leaving them both feeling satisfied and relaxed, so he likes him like that, too.

But Kageura doesn’t like Sumiharu in any way that counts. He doesn’t like Sumiharu in any way that warrants how Sumiharu’s pulse goes wild around him. He doesn’t like Sumiharu in any way that warrants how all Sumiharu wants to do when they meet his break down his walls, crumbling from the inside out. 

It’d be an ugly sight, Sumiharu knows. 

So he keeps it together, he keeps his cards close to his chest. He lets Kageura pull him aside and steal his breath, he pushes back and he pretends this is a fair fight. He enjoys it in the moment. He sucks marks into Kageura’s neck and he feels a private little thrill seeing them there, he lets Kageura do the same to him.

He goes to the bathroom afterwards and examines them in the mirror. He washes his face and he wishes he could wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. He smiles at himself and it is the same as ever, a little too bright, a little too loud; just as he wants it. He thinks of the smiles that Kageura gives; rare but genuine and so worth the wait, and his heart flips in his chest.

He lets this happen, again and again, the cycle repeating each time.

He ignores how his hands shake when he’s smoothing back his hair, how his breath catches, how his chest tightens.

It’s a good setup. He won’t complain.

* * *

He walks beside Murakami towards the Arafune Unit operations room, the designated meeting place for today. They’re both a little late to this catch-up; Sumiharu was sidetracked in the bathroom, once again, and Murakami was attending a unit meeting.

Sumiharu likes Murakami. He is calm and genuine, and Sumiharu always feels more centered around him.

“You fought very well in that last match,” Murakami says, smile on his face. Sumiharu may be six-feet under feelings for Kageura, but that doesn’t make him blind, or immune to the way his companion grins.

He grins back, the edges considerably softened. “You fought well in your match too!” he says, throwing an arm around Murakami. “Tamakoma’s ace is a real problem, huh?”

Murakami laughs, shrugging under the weight of Sumiharu’s arm. “I’ll get him next time,” he says.

“You better!” Sumiharu says. “Wouldn’t want to fall behind,”

Murakami nods. The operations room is coming up; Sumiharu can see that the door is open, and already hears the murmurs of conversation. Idly, he wonders how Kageura would react if he walks in with his arm around Murakami.

He probably wouldn’t.

Murakami hums, saying “You’re right. Kage wouldn’t forgive me if I did that. Apparently we’re developing a bit of a rivalry, the three of us,”

Sumiharu does his best to not let his smile stretch across his face. It’s his kneejerk reaction towards Kageura.

“Aren’t you supposed to have an active part in deciding whether somebody is your rival?” he asks. He sounds normal. Collected. He has hidden his heart very effectively; if Kageura wasn’t around to make him feel and feel and  _ feel _ , Sumiharu would probably worry that he’s cut his heart off altogether from the surface.

Murakami laughs. “You didn’t give Kage much choice when you first met him, did you?”

Sumiharu huffs. 

This is a terrible topic of conversation. 

He says “Everything just progressed naturally with us two!” and almost cringes at how that sounds. Murakami laughs again.

“I suppose,” he says, sounding amused. They’re almost at the door now. Sumiharu removes his arm from around Murakami and pulls at his collar a little more.

Ever the eavesdropper, he tunes into the conversation before going inside. It’s not like the occupants are being very quiet anyway—it’s easy to hear the “Aren’t you two dating?” that rings out. Arafune’s voice. Sumiharu has a bad feeling.

Murakami, observant as ever, turns to give Sumiharu a look. Sumiharu has stopped walking. He has a bad, bad feeling.

“Nah,” a voice rings out. Sumiharu wishes it wasn’t, but it’s Kageura. “We’re just, you know. Us.”

Arafune snorts. He says “Surprisingly, that makes sense.” Sumiharu focuses on a point on the doorframe. The wood has splintered a little.

“Shut up,” Kageura retorts. “Dunno. He’s just fun,” and the grimace that Kageura sports is obvious even in his voice, “but we aren’t doing that whole feelings thing.”

For somebody who has empath powers, Kageura is a fucking idiot.

There’s a hand on his arm, and Sumiharu turns from staring at the doorframe intensely to see Murakami watching him. His face hasn’t changed much from being neutral, but Sumiharu is good at reading people. 

He’s concerned.

Arafune says “Just an enjoyable and convenient deal, then. I didn’t think you were the type, Kageura,”

Kageura growls, without feeling, and snaps “Why are we even talking about this when the bastard’s not here? I’m trying to enjoy my peace of mind,”

He doesn’t mean it. Sumiharu knows he doesn’t. Still, he takes that comment and tucks it away in his heart, hoping that the poison will spread, hoping that it might kill the beast that lives in his chest.

Murakami tugs on his arm, gripping a little harder, and says “Inukai…”

He sounds like he’s being careful. Sumiharu won’t have that. This is his, and his alone, to deal with. He picks up the tiny chips of his composure that he let drop, and he smiles and he says “Come on, Murakami! We can’t keep our friends waiting,”

He walks in, gently slipping his arm out of Murakami’s grip. Kageura is lounging on the couch, face leant on his hand. It exposes part of his neck, the way his head is tilted, and Sumiharu can see the evidence of their prior meeting on him.

Sumiharu grins and gives everybody a bright greeting, then he places himself in a strategic position; away from Kageura, but not opposite to him, so he reduces the chances of looking directly at him.

He’ll probably look anyway, but at the very least he can assume the tactical advantage.

* * *

It’s the next day, and they’re doing it again. Kageura was solo rank battling just earlier, having caught Yoneya’s attention, and Sumiharu can feel how worn out and worked up he is from it. His kisses are deeper, slower, but more intense.

They’re on a couch this time, which is more comfortable for Sumiharu, but he kind of misses the stability of a wall behind him, backing him up in the face of everything that Kageura is.

As Kageura mouths down Sumiharu’s neck, he murmurs “You got a thing with Kou?”

Sumiharu is totally blindsided by that one. “Where did you pull that from?” he breathes, feeling Kageura’s fingers dig into his sides.

“Yesterday,” Kageura murmurs again, deep and unsteady. It’s great. Hearing him lose his cool like that is great. It makes this whole thing worth it. Probably. “He was giving me weird feelings the entire time. Like he was mad or something,”

Sumiharu huffs a laugh. “Am I the only reason you could come up with for him being mad at you?” he teases. He decides that Kageura has too much free reign at the moment. He grabs Kageura by the back of the neck and pulls him back up, dragging him into another deep kiss.

Kageura sighs into his mouth, and Sumiharu almost melts.

When they break apart, Sumiharu teases “You aren’t jealous, are you?”, because he’s some kind of masochist. 

Kageura snorts. He’s agreeable today, more than usual—though that isn’t saying much. Normally, a comment like that would be responded to with much more venom.

“No way in hell,” he scoffs. “I was just wondering if I had any competition,”. 

His eyes narrow as he says it, and Sumiharu can see what’s coming in that burning gaze. Soon enough, he’s proven right, as Kageura moves down to his neck and begins to work on another hickey. Bratty. 

Of course Kageura would want to know. He’s a winner.

“Competition, huh?” Sumiharu says. “Don’t worry, there isn’t any of that. I’ll be sure to keep you updated if anybody decides to try.” Obviously, there wouldn’t be. There’s nobody for Sumiharu except Kageura.

Kageura growls, though this one sounds pretty pleased, as he drags his teeth across Sumiharu’s clavicle. Sumiharu groans, sinking into the couch a little further. It’s embarrassing and out of character, but he supposes it’s alright. They can both be a little more agreeable today.

“It sounds like your thing,” Kageura mutters as he comes back to kiss Sumiharu. “Going around kissing anybody you feel like. As long as you remember that I’m the best,”

Sumiharu doesn’t know whether the heart attack he’s about to have is induced from the smirk on Kageura’s face, from how fucking  _ stupid  _ the first part what he just said was, or how fucking  _ accurate _ the second part of what he just said was. 

If there’s anybody in this situation going around kissing anybody he feels like, it’s Kageura. Sumiharu only ever feels like kissing  _ him _ . This entire time, ever since the beginning.

He feels frustration build up in him suddenly, pouring over almost at once because this is Kageura, and Sumiharu has never managed to keep himself calm around him. With a growl that he probably picked up from Kageura himself, Sumiharu grabs his collar and drags him closer, pressing a furious kiss to his mouth.

He deepens it until Kageura is almost on top of him, trying to drown out everything else in his head. If Kageura is going to use him as some kind of stress relief, to work out any leftover energy, then at the very least Sumiharu is going to get the same.

So they kiss, open mouthed and constantly pushing, vying, demanding, until Sumiharu feels a burn in his lungs and Kageura has to push him away to breathe. They’re both panting, and there’s a string of saliva connecting their mouths still. Kageura is looking at Sumiharu now; without fire, without annoyance. He’s just  _ looking _ , and Sumiharu can almost see him trying to figure out the situation in his head.

It’s too easy for him, with his side effect. He doesn’t know how to read people without it anymore.

Before he can reveal anything that doesn’t need to be seen in the light of day, Sumiharu pulls himself out from under Kageura, rolling his shoulders.

Back turned, he says “Just forgot that the captain wanted to have a meeting today! I should go get ready,” he says brightly. He takes a moment, pulling himself together enough to turn and face Kageura again. “We’ll have to cut this short.”

And because Sumiharu is terribly committed to his role, he brings Kageura in for one last kiss. Kageura is still watching him, almost  _ cautious _ , but he leans into the kiss, granting Sumiharu this last pleasure.

When Sumiharu pulls away, he murmured “Hope you enjoyed,” his face barely apart from Kageura’s.

Before Kageura can say anything, because Sumiharu can read it building in his eyes, he turns heel and walks away.

He heads for the nearest bathroom.

When he gets there, he stands and stares in the mirror. There’s an absent smile on his face.

He thinks that, once upon a time, he wasn’t always smiling. But he is now. These smiles piss Kageura off, but Sumiharu can’t change it now.

He takes in the feelings in his heart, all of the hurt and resentment and fatigue, and he tells the stupid organ:  _ what did you expect? What did you think was going to happen? _

He pulls apart each feeling clinically, because this is nobody’s fault but his own. He shouldn’t feel hurt, so he tells himself to pull it together and get over it. He shouldn’t feel resentful, because he’s the one who got himself into this mess, because he won’t let Kageura read him. He shouldn’t feel fatigue, because there’s few things in this world that bring him alive like the way Kageura traces his hands over his cheekbones and pushes into his mouth.

He shouldn’t feel sad, because it’s pointless. It doesn’t change anything about his situation with Kageura; all it does is make him miserable, drags him down. If he wants things to change, he needs to take the initiative. If he doesn’t want things to change—and he doesn’t, he really doesn’t—then he needs to accept it for what it is. This is what he’s chosen.

At least he’s making Kageura happy. At the very least, being of some use.

He buttons up his collar, making a face at the marks that are still visible above it. Pressing down on them, he hums, considering.

He pulls out some concealer from his pocket, that he keeps around mostly because his skin loves to break out randomly, and puts it to use. It takes a while, because he’s not used to covering up bruises or welts, but eventually he has a result that he’s satisfied with. They’re pretty well covered up, and only somebody looking closely could see the signs of concealer.

It’s a meaningless gesture, because they’re still there, and there will be more to come in the future, but it settles Sumiharu a little. It gives him a little control over himself again, changing and defining what he meddles with most: his surface.

He swallows down the ache he feels, trying to banish it from his mind. When Kageura texts him  _ u left ur tie here _ , he breathes in deeply. He stills his shaking hands. He replies  _ give it to me next time ;) _ and seals his ugly fate.

**Author's Note:**

> maybe there will be a second ch. maybe there wont. idk
> 
> if you liked this fic, please consider donating to my ko-fi! it's linked in [my carrd](http://arashiyama.carrd.co) \- thank you so much if you do!


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